


Vindicta

by Abyssia



Category: Saint Seiya, Saint Seiya - Saintia Shō, 聖闘士星矢: 黄金魂 | Saint Seiya: Soul of Gold
Genre: F/M, Face-Sitting, Graphic, Hate Sex, Revenge, Reverse Stockholm Syndrome, Sadness, Violent Sex, a misused dagger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-15
Updated: 2017-04-15
Packaged: 2018-10-19 04:05:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10631835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abyssia/pseuds/Abyssia
Summary: Unable to forgive Deathmask for what he did, Erda takes the chance to get her revenge. A chance meeting in Asgard on the precipice of disaster, leads them to learn just how similar they are.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey, I can't be the only one who saw Erda with deathmask and sensed some UST right?  
> ...right?  
> i mean I may be projecting, what with what I myself want to do to the gross italian crab...  
> but regardless, I did my best and pushed my limits, tried not to hold back on the fucked-uppery that rolled around in my head  
> and now i kinda unironically ship them and i hate myself  
> anyway enjoy Deathmask, a.k.a Angelo get fucking destroyed like he deserves.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months. The longer Erda was on her mission, the more desperate she became for any word from the sanctuary. In the absence of any orders, she had no choice but to stay and conduct her mission. Erda had been instructed to keep an eye on the mysterious town. To report any findings, any disturbances. The first thing she made sure the mention, was the beyond bizarre weather.

Asgard had always been a cold and desolate place. A climate that didn’t exactly agree with the young woman’s wardrobe. But nevertheless, she had learned to brave the elements along with the stout locals. However, accompanying a recent sudden political shift, the ice suddenly melted away, the tundra becoming fertile and full of life.

One morning, Erda found herself walking around the bright Asgardian streets, wandering her way to her favorite pub. Overhead, she noticed something strange. The sun was being blotted out by an eclipse. The sight brought her an immense feeling of dread. Arriving in the center of town, Erda first went out of her way to greet the one person she had managed to befriend.

“Good morning Helena!” Erda greeted, offering the girl a bright smile.

“Erda! It’s good to see you!” Helena replied, setting down a bundle of flowers and turning towards her friend.

Erda scratched the back of her head, standing casually in front of her and the flower stand.

“You don’t have that armor box of yours with you today, that’s a rare sight.”

Erda shrugged. “It’s not like I need to carry it with me everywhere, as long as it’s there where I need it, you know.”

Helena laughed. “Well, I’m glad that it seems like you’re getting comfortable here.”

“As comfortable as I can be,” Erda said, glancing up at the ominous sun somewhat nervously.

“You, know, I’ve started seeing some other people around with a box similar to yours. Are they perhaps friends of yours?”

“Huh?” Erda had not been made aware of any other saints being sent to Asgard, and so was aptly confused.

“Yeah, they were big stone things, like yours. But they were pure gold,” Helena said, a thoughtful finger on her chin.

“Gold?!” Erda exclaimed, her voice getting so loud that it made Helena start.

“Y—yeah! As a matter of fact, I saw one of them enter the pub this morning.”

Erda swore under her breath, starting towards the pub. She paused mid-step, turning back towards Helena. “Thanks for telling me, I appreciate it!”

Erda then burst into the pub, searching around frantically. She perhaps expected to see Milo or Aiolia but didn’t at all expect who she saw. Lounging behind a table with a drink in his hand, was a face she could never afford to forget.

“What the hell!?” Erda exclaimed, stomping towards Deathmask and grabbing his collar over the table.

“Ah, would you look at this. Little miss Cassiopeia has found me once again,” he replied with a lazy grin,” pulling his tankard to his lips for another sip.

Erda smacked the beer out of his hand. He looked at it sadly for a few moments before she started yelling at him again. “What the fuck are you doing here? Why are you alive again?!”

Deathmask shrugged. “Beats me. I have no idea whose grudge brought me back this time.”

She snarled, releasing him and letting him fall back into his seat. She grabbed a chair herself a chair, slumping down across from him. She didn’t meet his eyes, nor say a word for a few moments. Deathmask raised an eyebrow at her, leaning forward on his elbows.

“Buy me a drink.”

He snorted. “Are you even old enough to drink?”

“I said buy me a drink!”

“I really think that you should be the one to do so, considering that you spilled mine.”

Erda rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I just need you to tell me what the hell you’re doing here.”

“I told you, I have no idea who brought me back, or why I’m here.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Babe, I might be a murderer and a bastard, but one thing I am not is a liar.”

“Bullshit.”

He smirked. “Then what about you, sweetheart? What brings you all the way to the frozen north?”

“I happen to be on official assignment from Athena!” Erda said proudly. “While you were rotting in hell, we had some less-than-friendly contact with this place. And since then I’ve been assigned here to keep an eye on things.”

Deathmask quirked an eyebrow. “I thought spy work was Milo’s division.”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to report to Athena through him, but I haven’t gotten any contact from the sanctuary in weeks.”

“Well, isn’t that unfortunate,” he said, kicking back, putting his arms behind his head. “I for one, couldn’t give two shits about what Athena or the Sanctuary are doing.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, for once in my miserable goddamn life, I get a chance to live how I please. I’m not about to squander that opportunity.”

“Have you no honor as a Saint of Athena?”

Deathmask scowled, leaning back towards her. “No, as a matter of fact, I don’t. I wasn’t as lucky as you. Princess Cassiopeia, trained under the supervision of Athena herself. No. I was a dirty Italian orphan that Shion scraped off the streets, trained to fulfill some great ‘destiny’,” he said with a forced laugh. “But then the old bastard got himself killed, and I was left in the hands of that two-faced fuck-wit Saga. And lemme tell you, that bastard isn’t exactly the greatest parental figure.”

Erda scoffed. “What, do you expect me to feel sorry for you?”

“Not in the slightest,” he said, flashing her a wide grin. “Even so, I still don’t get why you hate me so much.”

“You murdered my friends!”

“I was just following orders, sweetie.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“I was a kid forced to kill before my balls even dropped, I don’t know what to tell you.” Deathmask leaned back in his chair, resting his hand behind his head.

Erda didn’t have an immediate response. For a moment she felt something terrifying, almost as if she were starting to sympathize with Deathmask.

At that moment, however, he let out a dry laugh. “Don’t tell me, that sob story got you to feel sorry for me? You’re weaker than I thought.”

“In your fucking dreams you piece of shit crab.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear.”

Erda grunted, tapping her fingers on the table. She suddenly got up from the table, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. Deathmask sighed, leaning his head into his hand in resignation. He had wondered how long she was gonna stick around, she was going to leave no matter what.

But to his surprise, a few minutes later, Erda returned. She slammed a large pint of beer down in front of him, the foam splashing in his face. “Well well,” Deathmask grinned.

“Just shut up and drink,” Erda commanded, taking several swigs of her ale.

Deathmask eagerly complied, taking a drink from his tankard. They both seemed eager to leave the heavy subjects behind, the two of them drinking in earnest in lieu of actually speaking to one another. Erda was determined to drink away whatever sympathy she felt towards him, it was too dangerous to let those feelings fester.

Erda let out a satisfied sigh, slamming her tankard down and glaring at him. “So you wake up, alive and well, and your next thought is to just hole up in a pub and get hammered?”

Deathmask lifted his drink with a grin. “That’s right.”

“Pathetic.”

When Deathmask finished his drink he leaned forward, his teeth glinting as he gave her a rather lingering look. “Well, aren’t you lucky that this frozen wasteland has gotten this heatwave recently. Otherwise, you’d freeze to death in that skanky cloth of yours.”

Erda snarled. “Your concern is greatly appreciated. Good thing to know that you were ogling a teenage girl when you were supposed to be completing your fucking mission.”

“I mean you’re not a teenager anymore, right?”

“Fuck off.”

He cackled. "It's not my fault when your goods are all out on display"

"Then with that stupid crab get-up of yours, it shouldn't be a problem if I just eat you whole!"

Deathmask leaned forward, perching his chin on his folded hands. "Go ahead and eat me right up, babe."

Erda took her empty tankard and slammed it down on the top of his head. He yelped, jerking back and clutching his injury. “I’ll take that as a no then.”

She grunted and set her tankard down. The other patrons in the bar had begun to stare, their unwelcome gazes staring her down. Erda then pushed her chair back and walked around the table to where Deathmask sat.

“Let’s get the hell out of here. Stand up.”

Deathmask kept a smug look on his face, even as she grabbed him by the arm, dragging him bodily out of the pub.

Erda let go of him as soon as they emerged onto the sunny street. Helena caught sight of them, her face lighting up. “Ah! So you did know each other after all, I’m so glad!” Helena said, dashing forward to grab Erda’s hands in glee. “I was so worried since you were always so alone.”

Erda grinned. “Aw man, you didn’t need to worry about me.”

Helena then turned her bright smile to Deathmask who stared at her completely entranced. Erda raised an eyebrow, seeing how he seemed unable to muster a response to the kind flower girl.

“Um, hello?”

“What--?! Uh sorry! I must have--” the usually crass, unapologetic and even cruel Deathmask was suddenly reduced to a sputtering mess. Erda watched in fascination as he blushed and fidgeted. “Sorry I must have spaced out.”

“She asked you your name, dumbass,” Erda said.

“Oh—uh,” he coughed. “Angelo.”

“Angelo?!” Erda and Helena replied in unison. Erda, however, being much more incredulous while Helena was politely pleased. “That’s such a handsome-sounding name,” Helena continued, her smile radiant. Both Deathmask and Erda were speechless.

Deathmask looked like he was going to melt on the spot. Surely, it was the first time in his life that a woman had ever been nice to him, let alone complimented him like that.

“So you’re like Erda, right?”

Deathmask’s face drained of blood, his mouth twisting into an attempt at a wry smile. “Well uh, you see--”

Erda scowled, grabbing him by the arm. “Speaking of that, me and my…comrade,” Erda said, the word leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. “We have some…stuff that we need to discuss.”

Helena nodded, smiling at them once more. “Okay, well I hope to see you two again soon. You too, Angelo.”

Erda continued to drag Deathmask away, completely useless at the pretty girl saying his name again.

For some reason, Angelo didn’t resist, even as she led him back to her lodgings and all but throwing him into her room. As soon as he was released, he regained his stance as best he could, slouching and shoving his hands into his pockets.

“I don’t know why you wanted us to be alone so badly,” Deathmask remarked. “Unless you wanted another sort of rendezvous.”

Erda scowled at him. “I’m not about discussing stuff out in the open like that.”

“You won’t expose your secrets but you’ll expose your skin? So you’re that kind of girl are you?”

“Fuck you!” She spat, shoving his shoulders roughly.

“I mean if you want to, I’d never turn down such a pretty girl as you.”

Erda lurched forward, grabbing his shirt and snarling at him. “You know that the only thing I want to do to you is slit that miserable throat of yours.”

“I dunno babe, but I seem to be getting some mixed signals here.”

Tired of his bullshit, Erda’s hands went to his throat, tightening until he struggled to breathe.

Angelo gasped, his hands going to hers but not attempting to push her off. His mouth moved uselessly, his body jerking as he was deprived of oxygen. But something seemed a bit off. Despite everything he wasn’t resisting. Something close to a smile lingered on his darkening face. Everything became clear when his hips suddenly jerked towards hers, an erection clearly poking through his pants.

“Of course you’re into this shit,” she growled, slamming a knee into his groin. She smeared his cock up against his stomach, releasing his neck just enough to hear him cry out in pain. But when he looked back down at her, there was no anger in his expression. He looked at her with an oppressive sadness in his eyes, ignited only by a desire for more.

Angelo’s hands trembled, his breath becoming labored. “What was all that talk about wanting revenge? Go ahead and take it,” he said with a listless grin.

“I'm not about to kill you in cold blood. I’m not like you.”

Deathmask let out an amused huff. “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you can figure out some others ways to punish me.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do if you get turned on from me hurting you?”

His grin became vaguely haughty. “Does it really matter? As long as I suffer, shouldn’t that be enough for you?” His hard cock seemed to almost burn against her leg, throbbing and itching for more. He was right, there was some gratification to be found in his screams. Her own groin had begun to heat up, wetness beginning to soak through. Maybe, in the end, Erda herself was just as messed up as he was.

Deathmask continued. “And here I thought you were a girl with some mettle. I’ll admit I thought you were impressive from the moment I saw you. Good thing I didn’t kill you then, huh?”

Erda snarled, raising a fist and punching him square across the jaw.

“And who was that pretty girl that you were holding in your arms? The two of you must have been close.” Erda punched him again with her other fist, blood starting to ooze from his lower lip. His tone was dead, and it was obvious that he was just trying to bait her, but Erda had stopped caring. He was right, the more he suffered, the better she felt. There was no reason to turn back now.

The hunger in Angelo’s eyes only grew, he stared back at her, begging for more. Erda took in a breath, heat burning deep in her stomach. She grabbed his shirt collar again, engaging her considerable strength to life him and slammed him against the wall. His head knocked back painfully, his face contorting. His legs went weak and he started to slide down towards the floor.

As soon as he knelt before her, she drove her bare knee into his face, his nose giving way with a satisfying crack. He screamed, a shrill, eerie sound. Blood oozing from his nose, dripping onto her knee and running down her leg. He pulled away and clutched his nose, groaning loudly as he waited for the bleeding to stop. Blood drying on his face, Angelo looked straight forward, tentatively placing a blood-stained hand to her sullied knee.

“Hey, I never said that you could touch me,” Erda spat, watching him as he seemed to ignore her, his face growing closer to her skin. “Hey, don’t make me kick you again--” at that moment she saw his tongue lick out, the hot flesh being felt against her skin. Erda was speechless, his tongue lapping at his own blood, being sure to leave not a drop behind. Erda shuddered, the sight of such willing subservience nothing short of thrilling.

Erda reached down, grabbing his hair to make him look up at her. The blood flowing from his nose had slowed to a stop, the liquid congealed and darkened above his lips. With a scowl, Erda spat on her free hand, using the hem of her shirt to clean up Angelo’s face. She stared at him for a few moments, his hauntingly red eyes looking back at her.

With her hand still in his hair, Erda dragged him to his feet and slammed him back against the wall. He let out a groan, slouching into the knee she kept against his groin. Erda’s breathing came heavily, her eyes drinking in his body. She grabbed his shoulders, and in a moment of impulse pulled him down for an unforgiving kiss. He was unable to respond at first. Perhaps too shocked, or simply just inexperienced with kissing at all. Noises of pain came from deep in his throat as she pushed against his swollen lips. It certainly couldn’t be hurting him that much, but it seemed like he was milking the pain for all he could. The bitter taste of his blood entered her mouth, the taste invigorating her.

Deathmask began to kiss her back, his hands twitching at his sides. He had certainly once thought her cute, found her strength impressive, but now four years later, her beauty and power were overpowering. It was all he could do to glimpse her smooth skin and silky hair, even as she assaulted him with empty touch. Though cruel, her hands and lips weren't completely empty, they were full of anger and hate; exactly what he deserved.

Erda pulled away, her eyes half-closed, a string of saliva still connecting their mouths. With a small whine, Angelo lifted his shaking hands. Cautiously he rested them on her slender waist, wanting to pull her closer. Erda, however, shook him off immediately, not giving him even a moment of rest. Her fist sailed into the underside of his jaw, his teeth smashing down on his tongue.

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed, her eyes wide with revulsion. Before he could reply, her other fist collided with his jaw. He slumped back against the wall, blood pooling against his lower lip. Swallowing it down, he avoided her eyes. “Listen, I’ll punish you all you want,” she began, taking him but the collar. “But you have to listen to everything that I say.”

Deathmask nodded slowly, his mouth still hanging open slightly, red blood tinging his teeth. His crotch still throbbed against her leg, his breath coming out in a low wheeze. With a rough motion, she jerked him down to her level, taking his lips once again. He groaned unconsciously, body quivering with the desire to reciprocate. But she gave him no opportunity to, dragging him backward, only releasing his lips when he was falling back onto the bed. He lay there on his back for a few moments, his erection creating a noticeable tent in his pants.

“Take off your clothes,” Erda commanded. She watched him carefully as he complied, peeling off his tattered black cut-off shirt. With his shirt removed, he fell back letting his arms sprawl limply by his sides. His skin was alluringly tanned, stretched over scrawny but muscled build. Taking a shaky breath, his ribs poked through his skin, scarred flesh pulling taut over his chest.

Seeing him obey her so readily gave Erda a sick sense of glee. Angelo was in truth very handsome, if not in a somewhat unrefined way. But now with his confidence and wilfulness stripped away, he could almost be considered beautiful.

Deathmask then continued, taking off his boots and letting them fall to the floor. He stripped off his socks and then moved his hands back to the hem of his pants. Undoing the buckle, he pulled them down and slipped the clothing off over his feet. Doing so revealed his defined thighs and solid calves, dark skin decorated with snowy wisps of platinum blond hair.

Erda licked her lips, her eyes lingering on his hips. He paused, his hands resting over his groin. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed.”

“Shut up,” he said with a bit of defiance entering his voice. Even as his hands trembled in his lap.

Erda’s face was hardened, her usually gentle features contorted. She lifted a leg, putting her foot down on the bed next to his hip. She leaned in on him, staring him straight in the face. “Take. It. Off.”

Angelo gulped, his erection twitching once again. With a small whimper, he pushed down the waistband of his boxers, his damp cock springing free at last. He had scarcely taken them off before Erda shoved him back into the bed again. She knelt at the foot of the bed, hooking Angelo’s legs over her shoulders. “Don’t look so embarrassed, it’s not that bad,” she chuckled. “I’ve seen plenty of chicks with bigger clits than this.”

Angelo scoffed, about to retort when her mouth suddenly darted to his erection. Her lips lingered hardly an inch from the quivering flesh. For a few moments, Angelo wondered what she was going to do, a foolish fantasy occupying his mind before sudden pain cut his thoughts short. Her teeth nipped at his foreskin, pulling the baggy skin down painfully. Angelo bit down on his lip, his hips bucking wildly. Erda grabbed his thighs to hold him down, moving her sharp teeth around the head. Tears were now starting to form in his eyes, the pain so intense that he couldn’t think of anything else. She was merciless, biting and tugging at every sensitive area of flesh. Tugging at pubic hairs with her fingers as she ravaged his skin.

Pushing herself away suddenly, she glared down at him. "Don't move." Erda stomped away, rummaging through a bag until she found what she was looking for. Angelo didn't move an inch, his eyes fixed on her, waiting hungrily. She returned to him a small glass bottle clutched tightly in one hand. Returning to her place between his legs, she grinned up at him. The look on his face was one of both fear excitement, his legs quivering in expectation. She oiled up her fingers and placed one up against his puckered entrance.

He let out a strangled moan, biting down on his own hand. Her fingers jammed inside, stretching him painfully. Erda sank her teeth into his thigh, her fingers jabbing upwards into his prostate as hard as she could. "Haaah--!" he whined loudly, his tongue starting to hang out of his mouth. "Harder...please," he gasped, moving his hips against her hand. "I need more."

Removing her fingers, she then reached down to her leg where she kept a dagger in its sheath. Undoing the straps, she grabbed it and pulled it into view.

“Hey, I thought you said you weren't going to murder me.”

“You told me to be creative,” she said, pouring some oil over the rounded hilt.

Deathmask yelped once the cold metal made contact with his entrance, everything tensing up in response.

“Come on now, loosen up for me again.”

Angelo whined loudly, his eyes locking on hers. Her eyes were as fierce as ever, the delicate frame of her face transformed by the twisted lust.

With a little more coaxing, the dagger slipped inside, Angelo’s eyes going wide. He grit his teeth and writhed, feeling the hilt scrape in further. Cold hard metal pressed up against his prostate, causing his whole body to shudder uncontrollably. She began to stroke it, the intense pleasure and the sharp pain crowding his nervous system.

“Haah---aaahh!” Angelo wailed, his chest jerking upwards as moving his hips only made the pain worse. “Hahnnghh---hhh!!!!”

“Now don’t enjoy yourself too much,” Erda cooed.

Angelo strained to look at her, seeing how his pain was reflected as pleasure in her eyes. He let out a shriek, his whole body arching. He felt every edge and curve of the hilt as it slid within him, the sensation like a white-hot flame. His screams soon became soundless, nothing but trembling and writhing.

“Oh god, I’m gonna---fuck I’m going to--”

Just as his body started to tense, preparing for release, Erda suddenly stopped. She pulled out and away, leaving him teetering on the edge.

“No…” he whined, reaching for her. “Please--”

She pulled herself over him, straddling his abdomen. Lowering his face to his, she brushed her fingers over his bruised face. “What do you want?”

“I want more,” he whined, hardly even able to speak. “Please…hurt me more.”

Erda shook her head. “It wouldn’t be punishment if I gave you what you wanted, now would it?” she said, her mouth forming into a sneer. Her lips met his again, but this time with not a hint of aggression. His lips started to move weakly against hers, small whimpers leaking from his lips.

“No, no no no!” He pushed back at her, turning his face away and straining against her embrace. Her hand had begun working his shaft in such a tantalizing way that he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. “No—stop! I’m going to--”

“What are you afraid of?” Erda whispered. “Just enjoy yourself.”

His face was twisted in anguish, his eyes full of fear. She had succeeded. She couldn’t hurt him with violence or scorn. No, the thing that crushed his soul the most, was kindness and love he knew that he didn’t deserve.

“Please…please don’t--” his words were cut off by orgasm suddenly wracking his body. He let out an oddly agonized cry, all of his muscles relaxing after the release.

Finally withdrawing herself, Erda pulled back, looking down at the pathetic and panting Deathmask. His chest was dotted with his own slimy white seed, rising and falling with each labored breath. Erda frowned down at him, grabbing the sheets and wiping him off. Angelo’s hands went to her arm, trying to hold onto her as she tried to get up from the bed.

"Wait--" he clung to her, grabbing weakly at her clothes.

Erda gave up on leaving, kneeling on the bed next to him. "What the hell do you want?" Even as she looked back down at him, he refused to meet her eyes. "Don't tell me you still want more."

He scowled, his cheeks still flushed as he was trying to even out his breathing. "Are you really gonna just leave now?" he asked quietly.

"This is my room, you're the one who should leave."

"Are you done with me then?" The way he asked that question came off as somewhat odd. He sounded almost, sad. Erda tried not to think too hard about what they had just done. It didn't mean anything. She had been simply getting her revenge and gave him much more than he deserved. Erda ran her eyes along the length of his body again, the olive tones vibrant with the flush of blood. Her gaze wandered back to his face, to his chapped lips, his tongue sitting as if waiting behind his teeth.

Angelo reached a hand towards her, his fingers lingering just over her thigh. "Sit on my face," he stated suddenly.

Erda's face burst into a startled blush, her body rounding on him in disbelief. Her change in position caused his hand to fall between her legs. The tips of his fingers brushed against the seam of her tight Lycra shorts. She shuddered, unable to muster the energy to shove him off. His fingers began to stroke up and down her bulging folds, her wetness having soaked completely through her underwear and shorts.

"I told you, not to touch me," she forced out through gritted teeth, unconsciously pressing her hips into his hand. Her lingering arousal was undeniable, her thirst still yet unquenched.

Angelo cupped her groin rubbing her a little harder. "Please," he whispered. "Just fuck my face."

Erda, at last, grabbed his hand and yanked away from her groin. "What makes you think that I'm gonna take off any of my clothes for you?”

He gave her a half-hearted grin. "I mean you're basically half naked already, so I don't see the holdup."

Erda didn't even have the will to respond to his remarks. She just slapped him rather weakly across the face, this garnering a dry chuckle for him.

"Go ahead. Do your best to fucking smother me."

"You don't even have to ask." Erda then swung her legs out from underneath herself, pulling off her shorts and underwear, tossing them to the floor. Immediately she was fully aware of how incredibly wet she had become. Every single one of Deathmask's agonized screams having caused her enormous gratification. Before turning around, she idly slid her fingers up and down her folds, making sure to spread lubrication over her prominent clit. It was hard to resist just finishing herself right there, but the thought of crushing Deathmask's miserable face between her thighs was even more alluring.

Erda then let herself fall onto her side, rolling back towards Deathmask until she was right next to him. She glared into his eyes for a moment, her hand still idly stroking between her legs.

His glistening lips then spread into a smile. "What the hell are you waiting for?"

With that she dragged herself on top of him, sitting directly on his chest. Leaning forward, Grabbed his hands and pinned them to the bed. Angelo looked directly at her open legs in front of him, his mouth watering as he finally got to take in the sight. Her vulva was flushed and swollen, her clit standing erect at the apex. Oddly enough her clit was rather impressive, large enough that even someone like him wouldn't have much trouble.

Erda grimaced, stifling a blush. "Wipe that stupid look off your face."

His grin widened, his sharp teeth glinting. "I assumed that you were gonna do it for me."

Erda took that cue to shove her pelvis into his face, muffling any protest with her wet folds. She immediacy let out a groan at the welcome friction, grinding herself against his chin. His skin was prickly with growing stubble, but that didn't stop her. Quickly his lips secured around her clit, swollen and protruding from arousal.

Her hips moved back and forth at a steadily increasing pace. Angelo's hands struggled against her grip, but she wouldn't budge. Angelo tried as hard as he could to get a good look at her, to see that pretty face of hers twist in ecstasy. But her expressions were hard for him to catch with how violently she crushed herself against him.

Angelo then took a harder grip on her clit, his teeth applying pressure from behind his lips. Erda let out a loud cry, her body drooping forward over him. He grinned into her folds, finally able to work his hands free. He took a hold of her thighs, keeping the seal tight so that he struggled to breathe. Her pleasure was starting to mount to the point where her control was beginning to wane, and Angelo wasn't about to let that opportunity slip by. If he had a chance to at least slightly make up for all the shit he had done, he was going to take it.

Focusing his cosmos into his hands, Angelo grabbed her by the rear, filling her with the celestial energy that blessed them both. With the careful use of cosmos, one's body could burn to the maximum, strength and power being not the only thing to be gained. With a violent shudder, Erda reached her climax, screaming as she bit down on her lip. Her pelvic bone smashed into his nose, causing him to start bleeding again. Angelo grunted in protest but was unwilling to let go of her. His tongue continued to lap greedily along her throbbing folds, eager for more.

"Stop it you're getting your blood all over me again!" Erda yanked his hands off her legs and pulled away. She, however, was weak from the orgasm and wasn't able to get very far. She fell on her side next to him, her breathing coming heavily. Angelo propped himself up on one arm, looking at her with a conflicted expression on his face. Despite everything that she had made him endure, he still couldn't help but see her serene beauty. And even though it was certain that she would feel nothing towards him but hate, he still felt foolish emotions springing up in his chest. The same kind of naïve feelings that Helena's smile brought. Things that a man such as him could never deserve.

Angelo rolled onto his stomach, his body still throbbing in pain all over. He savored the dulled sensations, gazing towards the drowsy girl next to him. Foolishly, he drew closer, curiously and cautiously. He reached a hand towards her hair, his lips nearing her face again. Close enough that he could taste her breath, Erda's eyes snapped open. Angelo started, jerking back and bracing for punishment. To his complete surprise, she instead grabbed his hair, pulling him in for one more kiss.

His blood mingled with Erda's own cum swirled in their mouths. Her lips were just as hungry, even as his blood smeared onto her face. She pulled away for a moment, her eyes distant.

"Shit, you're dirty, I got you dirty," he muttered, his tongue trying desperately to clean her beautiful skin. Erda's own tongue slid out of her mouth lazily, dragging along his face where she could reach.

Angelo smirked, keeping his face close to hers. "Do you like it?" He asked in a low voice. "The taste of my blood?"

"I'm not like you," she said without conviction, a hand tightening in his hair.

"I'm afraid that's where you're wrong, sweetie."

Erda met his eyes for a few moments longer, her expression unreadable. But just when he thought she still had more to give, she shoved him away abruptly. She rolled away, getting shakily to her feet.

“Erda--” he gasped, reaching after her.

She stopped in her tracks. Hearing him say her name like that, calling out to her for the first time, it was enough to give her brief pause. But it wasn't enough to make her stay. There was nothing more for them. She had gotten her revenge, and she still had her mission and her duty.

"Goodbye, Angelo."

His eyes widened, his arm falling back to the bed. Hearing her say his name, her voice forming the sounds he had abandoned long ago, it caused a dangerous emotion to course through his chest. “Erda please--” he said, sputtering through the saliva and blood that had started to collect in his cheek.

“I’ll be gone for an hour, I expect you to be gone by the time I get back,” she said coldly after she had put her clothes back on. “If I see you again, I will kill you.”’

“I mean, this is a small town, we’re bound to run into each other.”

“I am leaving to return to the sanctuary tomorrow. It’s been long enough without word.” She then grabbed Angelo’s clothes and threw them back at him. “Use whatever you need to clean up the blood, I don’t care. Just get out of here.”

Clutching his shirt in his hands, Angelo kept gawking at her. When Erda finally looked back at him, she found that she couldn’t so easily look away. There was no time to ponder the emotion that pricked at the edges of her heart at that moment. Whether pity, sympathy or something deeper. There was no time, not in this world. In the world where he had been forged into a monster, and she the hunter bent on taking him down. There was no place for these feelings when duty got in the way.

Erda turned around, moving towards the door. Behind her, Angelo scrambled to pull on his boxers limping after her. “Don’t even think about touching me--!” Before she could finish, his arms were around her, holding her tightly to his chest. Too shocked to respond, Erda stood there her heart starting to race.

“I’m sorry, Erda.”

“What the hell for?”

“For killing her. Her name was, Myrt, right?”

“Yeah, it was,” Erda replied slowly, her throat thick.

“Call it an obsession, but I try to remember the names of every person I’ve killed. I don’t just make a creepy mask of them, you know.”

“So, you’ve made a mask of her face, then?”

Angelo let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, I did. A real pretty one, I did my best to do her justice.”

“I see.”

“Come by the Cancer Temple some time. I’ll show you where she is and you can pay your respects. All your other friends too. Maybe tell me their names so I can--” in the middle of his words, he was cut off by her lips. Erda had turned around in his arms, put her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Angelo was completely caught off guard. Her lips were gentle, the softness more evident than ever. He struggled to make more than a small squeak, his whole body seeming to be frozen.

All too soon she pulled away, her hands cupping his cheeks. “Like hell I’m ever gonna visit that rancid shithole,” she spat, pushing him backward and continuing towards the door. It would certainly be for the best if they never even thought about seeing each other again. No good could possibly come of them. While similar in their fire and passion, they were after all broken beyond repair.

 

 

 

 


End file.
